Red Ink
by frecles
Summary: When Lisbon doesn't show up to work one Monday Morning everyone including Jane thinks it is his fault. Jane knows he shouldn't have said what he did on Friday. But when he finds out the truth behind her absence will he be able to handle what he sees and more importantly will he forgive her or Red John? Disclaimer: I do not own The Mentalist and do not make any money from this story
1. Chapter 1

Jane was starting to panic. He tried to deny it to every person who asked, including that little voice inside him that whispered at the edge of his mind. He had told Grace that she was probably just late after spilling coffee on her shirt. He had tried to listen to Kimball when he had said it was the first time she had ever been late, and she deserved some leeway. He had tried hard and almost failed and restraining himself from hitting Rigsby when he had suggested that maybe she was out the night before and was recuperating after it, after someone.

Jane knew this wasn't true. Sure she had been angry, but she wouldn't have done something stupid. She was smart, responsible and reliable.

But there was the heart of the problem.

Teresa Lisbon was so damn reliable. Everything she did had a lot of thought behind it. She never made a decision without thinking it through, the polar opposite to him. He liked to leap and rush into everything, while she liked to hang back and gather her thoughts. So she wouldn't just not turn up to work unless there was a reason behind it.

Then he let the first tendrils of worry take their grip working their way into his stomach, his throat, his finger making each strained and cold. He abruptly stood up from his spot on the couch to seek out the team which he soon found in the break room.

"Rigsby, Grace, Cho, have any if you seen Lisbon yet, it's getting late and I'm bored". He tried, but he couldn't keep the tightness out of his voice and groaned inwardly when he saw the team had heard it.

"Not since Friday night when she said goodnight and said she was going to say goodbye to you in the attic for the weekend" said Grace a little more cheerfully than the situation called for thought Jane.

"The boss left before you?" asked Rigsby sounding thoroughly perplexed. "She didn't finish her paper work, I saw it on her desk, thats a good thing, right?".

Cho was the one to answer this, his immovable face trained on Jane's. "No. No it's not. She Works way to hard, but she would have finished her paperwork after talking to Jane instead of going home straight away. Remember the last time she didn't show up for work?"

All eyes trained on Jane and he read their faces, seeing the anger, the blame and the hurt that was there for all of them. He didn't need to be a mentalist to tell that they were all thinking about the one time no one would discuss with him. The time while he was in Vegas. He asked them what she had done, desperation seeping into his voice. He needed to know she was okay, needed to know she had been okay when he hadn't been there. Instead of the reply he was looking for he saw Cho shift and ask him what he had said to her on Friday to make her react like this.

He quickly put his tea down onto the bench and walked out of the room. When he turned his key in the ignition, he realised he hadn't even known he was holding the mug until he put it down.

He let his head rest gently on the steering wheel before pulling out of the CBI parking lot and driving to Lisbon's apartment.

In the silence of his car he finally let his mind drift to Friday and he let guilt flood his system, for once happy it was there, if only to drown out the nagging voice of fear.

...

_Teresa stood next to him trying to convince him it wasn't his fault. _

_"Jane, you couldn't have known. There was no way you could've seen it coming". She looked at him like he was a lost puppy that she had taken in. It angered him, he knew it shouldn't but it did. _

_"Of course it was my fault!" He practically yelled. "I gave him the information thinking he would try to get to her in the safe house, not thinking the killer would torture him for an address. He wouldn't have died if I wasn't here". Lisbon visibly flinched when she looked in his eyes, seeing only cold and despair in their depths._

_"Jane, how can I help you if you don't listen to me?" She was hurting. He had been this way for weeks and it was clearly taking its toll on her. She had stopped eating again, apart from light meals and what the team had been offering her. She had also started falling asleep in her office during the week, that is when she slept at all. He knew she had barely survived his trip to Vegas; the team still couldn't look him in the eye. He had asked what she had done but no one would talk about it._

_Now he was pulling away from her again and she had panicked, going into caretaker mode. She had been checking up on him and forgetting about himself. As Jane studied her further he could see what he had done to his closest friend. He hated himself for it. Why couldn't he stop hurting her? Why couldn't she just take care of herself and leave him to mope? Why couldn't he stop observing her when she thought he wasn't looking? Why couldn't he distance her from his mind when she so clearly needed to be anywhere but next to his side? _

_And those questions churning in his mind he made a decision. He needed her to get to a safe distance from him. So he looked her straight in the eyes and conjured up the most painful lie he ever told. _

_"I don't need you Lisbon"_

Five words. As soon as he said them he regretted it. The silence after was painful, cutting into him. He had those words loaded with spite and cruelty. She had felt it more than anything else he had ever said. When he had managed to look at her again, he saw her face slowly lose all expression.

She didn't become angry or yell and no tears escaped. She just stood and turned in smooth mechanical movements. Gone was the usual lightness in her steps, the relaxed way she occasionally let her hips swing when she walked. As she reached the attic doorway she looked over her shoulder and with a voice that Jane didn't recognise she told him she was going home and she would see him on Monday.

It almost killed him. Seeing her put her mask back on knowing she wouldn't let it down for anyone again. It had taken Jane a long time to break down her walls and see her the way she was, not just the way she displayed herself. Five stupid, insignificant words had taken it all away. He just meant to create some distance, not to lose her so completely.

He slammed his hand against his dash board and swore. He couldn't lose Teresa. He faced long ago that he couldn't survive in a world that she wasn't in. He now knew surviving a world where she was still near him every day, but alienated towards him may be an even deeper level of hell. He wouldn't disappear or die for fear of what it might do to her, but he would never see her warmth, her lingering green eyes or her small secret smiles that he needed more than oxygen ever again.

A shrill ring interrupted his thoughts and without stopping or even slowing to the legal limit he pulled out his phone.

"Jane? I just got a call from Lisbon" said a sharpened version of Van Pelt's voice.

"What is it?" Jane needed to know. Panic overtook him once more and he pulled over, if Grace was calling him after the looks he has received in the break room, something must be wrong.

After a long shuddering few breaths Van Pelt responded "Jane she said she was fine, said she was just sick and saw her doctor and may not be back for a few weeks, but Jane, she sounded like she did while you were gone. I think she was crying before she called and she sounded broken Jane."

Jane punched the door next to him, vaguely thinking he was surprised his hand didn't go through the glass. He told Grace not to worry and he would help her, he was on his way right now. He was barely aware of the rest of their conversation and was on the road to her house again.

What had he done?


	2. Chapter 2

Jane arrived at her apartment building and remained outside. He didn't know if he could do it. He didn't know if he could survive seeing what had made Van Pelt so anxious. He didn't know if he could handle seeing her in her own environment, terrified or sad and he knew he may not be able to control himself if she was in fact okay, relaxed and comfortable.

The last time he had seen her like that she was wearing her Lisbon jersey that she slept in. He had stowed the moments away in his memory palace, often visiting them, remembering the way it hugged her body, revealing the shape she held and the way her pale legs seemed to move so lightly, dancing around the room to the music in her ipod.

'Damn it Jane!' he thought to himself. 'You are going there to comfort her, not to seduce her!' For a moment he let himself imagine just what it would feel like if he did decide to seduce her. He knew it would be all to easy to do without thinking it through, and found himself wanting her more than anything. 'Where did that thought come from?' he asked himself as if he didn't know. He shook his head and exited the car; a firm decision in his mind to make sure Lisbon was okay and ask for her forgiveness, nothing more.

He didn't care that the sky was darkening all around him and he had devoted an entire day to wishing she was okay. He just needed to get to her, to make sure she was okay before anything else. He jogged the final steps through her apartment building and finally got to her door.

He put his ear against the wood of the door, hoping to hear something that would prove to him that Lisbon was okay and he could leave without making her angrier. Maybe the sound of her laughing at a book she was reading or her spice girls cd playing as she cooked dinner. Instead what he heard tore at his insides. He heard her sobbing, pure anger and grief his ears even through the door. He then heard a thunk as something was thrown at the wall. He knew he should go and leave her to cry in peace.

With that he straightened himself and took in a deep breath. He knocked on the door "Lisbon I need to talk to you"

...

Lisbon started when she heard the knock, and the voice that came after it was enough to stop her seemingly endless tears from flowing. "Lisbon I need to talk to you." She was almost paralysed with fear. It took all she had to look up at the door.

What was he doing here? She couldn't handle having him here. She couldn't let him see it. No matter what it took, he could not see it. She had seen the look he was bound to get in his eyes. He would blame her, hell she blamed her. He would find her repulsive. He would either run, or make sure she left. No he couldn't see it, especially when she couldn't even defend it to herself.

His voice came again "Lisbon please. I can hear you in there just open the door." It was probably supposed to sound like a close co-worker making a request, not a pleading friend, but his words had urgency and a begging note to them that no one would be able to ignore.

It was almost enough to make her open the door. It physically hurt to hear him like that. He never showed his raw emotion if he could help it, and here he was standing at her door with a dozen tortured syllables. He was obviously guilt ridden about their fight on Friday.

She felt a little hope edge into the corners of her mind. He thought this was about the fight. He believed she was this upset after he'd said what he did. She had been planning his systematic punishment as she had driven herself home, but it was soon forgotten as she stood in the threshold of her apartment with some unknown toxin drifting through her system. And then there was no thought, not for him, not for her, not for the intruder who caught her before she fell.

She half walked, half dragged herself back into the threshold. She allowed memories to take control of her for as she shuddered at the memory of the needle slowly sliding into the back of her neck. She then stiffened every muscle in her body and opened the door to reveal a completely un-phased Patrick Jane picking her lock.

...

Jane looked her up and down, scanning every part of her, showing more concern about her well being than being caught breaking into her apartment. His eyes rested on her face seeing the red and blotchy skin, her eyes swollen from crying. He stood up slowly, taking her hands in his. He searched her beautiful green eyes that were now red and bloodshot, desperately trying to read her, to find some reason locked behind her pupils. Finding nothing straight away he diverted his gaze and looked down at the hands the held.

The nails were bitten, an extremely un-Lisbon like thing to do. Under her nails he saw blood, like she had scratched someone, putting up a fight. She Jerked out of his grip and moved to close the door. "Do you want a drink?" Her voice was shaking as she started to walk to the kitchen trying to avoid her guest as much as possible. It was plain to the ordinary observer that she was hiding something, and he was going to find out what it was.

"Lisbon, stop." Jane's voice was soft, but it wasn't a request. Jane grabbed both her hands and her eyes again and stepped closer, seeing how she would react. She fidgeted under his eyes and tried to back away. He stepped closer to her, this time trying to comfort her as well as get a read. "Lisbon, what happened to you?" He felt the pulse in the hand he was holding shoot up as she pulled herself away, and slipped by him to get to her kitchen.

Patrick dutifully followed her and leaned against the archway as he silently observed her. Shaking, she was pouring water into her kettle and putting back onto its resting place to let it heat for coffee. She seemed to be unable to let him out of her sight, her eyes constantly darting between him and her task. Really she craved something stronger than coffee, but she knew from experience one she had one she wouldn't stop, and right now she needed all of her self control. Patrick started to wonder if him insulting her would have this effect on her.

Jane watched her in silence as she turned poured the boiling water into two cups, a coffee for herself and a tea that Jane hadn't asked for. He decided it wasn't what had happened between them on Friday, that would make her angry, furious even, but not scared. She turned to face him, holding his mug, "I hope this is how you like it. I never seem to get it right".

"Lisbon about Friday. I didn't mean what I said. You know I didn't. Of course I need you, I've always needed you. Right now I need you to trust me. Please, let me help you, tell me what happened." His words were soft, but again the tone in the last few words were not those of a request, a hard authority underneath them.

He placed his cup down on the bench next to her and pushed gently on her wrist, making her do the same. He stepped closer to her and lifted her chin, forcing her eyes to look up at him. Those emerald eyes had always enchanted him in the past but now something was different. Now they terrified him.

She was scared. Scared of him. Scared of how he would react to whatever it was that was making her act this way. He knew he should either tell her that she was safe, or leave, but he couldn't bring himself to do either. All step ever closer and offer any comfort he could.

They stayed like that in his kitchen for a long while, letting the drinks go cold and the boundaries slip away. He was so much more than her pain in the ass consultant in this moment. In this moment they were everything they could not be to each other.

Patrick removed his hand from under her chin, dragging it out for as long as he could to make sure her eyes did not wander. He almost sighed in relief when her eyes steadily looked back at him. Slowly he eliminated all remaining space between them and stepped closer to her yet again. Words were not working; Lisbon had forgotten the lies spoken in anger in his attic, but was too distracted concealing her secret to listen. So he had to offer whatever small comfort he could to her, even in her present state in whatever way he could. He leaned in and embraced her, with his whole heart, his whole soul.

The moment his hands touched her back, she cried out in pain.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: This is the first story I have ever written for fan fiction and so I'm extremely grateful to all of you who have sent me reviews and who have followed or favourited my story. I hope that I don't disappoint you. Please enjoy.. **

Lisbon arched her back, her body reflexively trying to get away from Jane's hand. He almost jumped backwards trying to give her room to breathe and recover. Soon the sharp pain had faded to the dull constant ache which had held her since she woke up.

As the memories started to flood her mind she fought back. Her still bloody hands gripped the countertop and she her body tremble, trying to use the sensations to anchor her to the present. The present however was looking just as bleak as the past. Jane was staring at her his lips in a tight line, only seconds away from asking her what happened.

Lisbon knew that she couldn't lie to him, but she wouldn't survive the way he would look at her; not like a victim, but like a criminal. Damn it she was a cop, not a victim. When had she become so weak? She had always been the protector, the guardian, the big sister. She was the one who helped others and smoothed over their scars.

But so suddenly, she had become the scarred, the irreparably damaged. She didn't want this. She didn't want Jane to try to help her. She didn't want to need help.

Lisbon thought these things over and over until her whole head became a swirling mass of thought. She didn't want this. She couldn't do this. She couldn't let Jane see. Over and over her thoughts turned as she slowly forgot to grip onto the counter.

The last thing she thought before falling into the past vaguely surprised her. All anger had been lost in that endless fog that was encompassing her and she was just sad. Sad that she would be the second and possibly last one to irreparably damage Jane.

...

_She woke alone in a black room. Her head throbbed and she was grateful for the darkened, knowing if the lights were on her headache would quickly develop into a migraine. She just wanted to go back to sleep and wake up when the headache was over and the fight with Jane was done._

_The fight with Jane. She groaned and rolled over pulling her familiar blanket with her, leaving half of the bed bare. Why did Jane have to say that. Lisbon had thought he had understood. She thought it was a silent mutual agreement. He needed her and she needed him._

_She felt like an idiot for thinking that for the past few years. He didn't need her to get assemble shards of a life. He did that all on his own. No he did that with the help of Red John. His obsession and vow of vengeance had taken the weight of the death of his family off other parts of his mind. The part that he used to eat, dress and project the correct air of nonchalance and disinterest._

_Lisbon had been an idiot thinking that it was her and the stable influence of the CBI. _

_And now she was even more of a fool, because no matter how much she would like to deny it and say it wasn't true, she needed him. He knew about her past without even asking. He knew what she had been through and aian't question why when he met her, she was so buried in her work. _

_Slowly Jane had widened her tunnel vision. Not all the way, but enough so that she started seeing that other things were important, that she was important. It was gradual, she knew, but slowly she had started taking time out from work. She started dating, at least going on the first date, taking weekends to herself to eat ice cream and watch old movies and she had started collecting small origami frogs, which she kept in her desk drawer._

_He trusted her, trusted her above anyone else, but he didn't need her. She had chosen not to see it, thinking that his affection, his trust and his friendship was something he relied upon, rather than something that was merely helpful or convenient. _

_Lisbon rolled over again so she was facing the area of the bed without blanket. It was clear and bright, even in the dark room. The intense red stains against the stark white sheet must have been there for hours. And she knew they must have come from her. _

_She jumped from the bed and pulled of her blanket, trying to see how much blood there was. Seeing it was spread and smeared from her tossing and turning, she realised there wasn't as much as she had initially thought. It hadn't soaked very much into the mattress and she would survive losing that amount of blood easily. _

_Relieved, she leaned against the wall that was running alongside her bed. She was surprised to find that she hadn't noticed while she was busy thinking about Jane and the small turmoil he had caused her. She concluded the blood must have come from a wound on her back. Sighing, she walked into the bathroom because it had the largest mirror in her apartment, and took off her shirt._

_ 'That's odd' thought Lisbon. 'I don't remember falling asleep in my work clothes, and I certainly wasn't at work without my bra'. _

_She pulled her hair over her shoulder and as she did found a small raised circle with her fingers. She gasped, remembering the intruder in her house and the needle being pushed into her neck. She turned around to see what he had done._

_It was horrific. It wasn't her back any longer. _

_She turned around again and lent over the sink, just in time for the bile that rose from her throat. All thought left her system and she turned to look again. She needed to get this mark off her. It didn't belong on her. It was evil. Mindlessly she started trying to tear at her own back. Skin came away underneath her fingernails, but she couldn't reach the design, she couldn't get the mark off her. She dug deeper, still feeling no pain and still unable to rid herself of the blood red mark._

_She broke down, sobbing uncontrollably and wished more than anything in the world that it was Friday night again, and she was back in the attic watching Jane dismiss the most important thing in her life._

...

Jane watched Lisbon. He needed to know. He needed to know why she was scared. She often hid physical pain, wanting to assure herself she was tough and independent, but this was something else. This wasn't a mask trying to prevent Jane from helping her, this was preventing Jane from hurting her.

What was this injury?

It hit him just before she started to shake. The only thing she would ever hide from him. It had to be. Red John.

Jane slowly felt the anger bubble up inside him. This explained everything, why she didn't come in, why she was hiding from him, why she was so upset, why she had forgiven his words of anger. It was because something much worse had happened, something Red John had done.

He looked up when he heard Lisbon whimper. She was shaking violently now and her eyes weren't seeing anything that was in front of her. Jane knew what was happening, the same thing had happened to him many times in front of Sophie while he was in the hospital. That's how Jane managed to step forward and catch her before she fell. And that's why he fully prepared himself for what he might hear when she woke up.


	4. Chapter 4

It had been hours. Hours of Jane sitting in Lisbon's kitchen with her sprawled upon his lap. A while ago she had started mumbling, mumbling about him, about how he didn't want her. After that she had started to shake, her body twitching against his.

Jane had imagined so often his first time truly holding Lisbon in his arms. It had always involved soft touches and gentle looks and happiness, but his reality always had a way of twisting everything to its evils. He instead found himself in a situation where his beautiful Teresa lay broken and delicate in his arms, while he mentally prepared himself for whatever new hell Red John wished to bestow upon him.

God, she was so small. Teresa always had an air about her, an attitude, a softened danger that made her appear larger than she actually was. But now the petite brunette lay damaged in his arms he saw the truth of the matter, she was tiny. He wanted to know every part of her, to see exactly what she was like despite his assumptions, to see who she really was. He couldn't do that. Not without her permission and certainly not while she was in so much pain.

So he waited, he waited for the shaking to stop and the mumbling to cease and for her to open her eyes.

When she finally did they were red and bloodshot. They also refused to meet his. She quickly gained control of her legs and stood up trying to put as much distance from herself and Jane while trying not to be rude to the man who had clearly been holding her for a while.

"What day is it?" she asked, happy for a reason to break the silence.

"You don't know?" Patrick looked at her quizzically. He knew the answer. He just wanted to get a read on her.

"I've been here all weekend with a bad back. With all the pain medication I just kind of lost track." She shrugged. Jane didn't know how to feel about her response. He was glad to see after her long, though troubled, sleep she had regained some sort of composure, but he was worried, what was so bad she would keep it from him? He also fought against the anger that started to well up inside of him. He tried to push away the thought of Red John being his and thinking she would not stand in his way of getting to Red John, no matter how afraid she might be.

This was going to be a hard conversation, made near impossible if Jane couldn't reel in his feelings. He took a deep breath in and out, trying not to call her on her lie and make her defensive before he had even begun. "It's Tuesday afternoon".

"Lisbon started a little and then tried to hide it, busying herself with making both of them hot drinks. It was a while before either of them spoke again, each trying to figure out how to manipulate each other. Lisbon remembered that she had done nothing the past few days, and though she was afraid of the pain having a shower and freshening up would have on her, she still needed to do some house work. Like take the bloody sheets of the bed.

She was about to ask Jane to leave so she could fix up her apartment when Jane started talking. "You talked in your sleep."

"Did I say anything interesting?" Her mind started sharpening and finding its way out of the wispy fog of sleep.

"You mumbled mostly, about Friday". Lisbon dropped the cup she was holding against the bench, lucky that only a tea bag was inside it at the time.

"What did I say?" She asked trying to keep her voice level. Jane had had enough of this. He had watched over his broken friend all night and through the better part of the day, scared to death of what had been done to her BECAUSE OF HIM and she was going to try and give him some half assed excuses and lies while he watched her from the kitchen floor?

He could read her. As soon as she had started to talk and clear her head she was doing damage control. She was deciding where to run to, to hide when she had finally convinced him that she was okay and that he could leave. But that wasn't going to happen; he wasn't going to let it. His sentence came out colder and sharper than she had expected.

"Oh don't worry, you didn't say anything about your little meeting with Red John." This time Lisbon managed to hold in to the mug in her hand. She didn't turn around or look at Jane.

"I didn't meet with Red John."

"Oh really? Then why won't you let me see what's on your back. Don't tell me it has nothing to do with him, because I know it does."

Lisbon turned around and the two of them stared at each other in silence, trying to read what emotions were etched into the other's face. This moment lasted longer than they thought it would. Neither moved, not even a blink. Each pushed their thoughts to the back of their mind, so the other couldn't see it. Lisbon was getting tired of this constant game, the one that had been going on since the second she met her consultant, so she was the one to break their stalemate.

"Jane if all you want to do is accuse me of being an accomplice of Red John I'm going to ask you to leave."

"Now that's interesting" Jane cocked his head to the side and gave her one of his patented looks. "Why would I ever think you were working with Red John? I trust you Lisbon, I have told you that. Why do you think I changed my mind all of a sudden?" Something flashed behind her eyes and Jane continued talking.

"Maybe you think that whatever is wrong with your back is what will make me lose trust." Jane got up from his spot on the floor and he took Lisbon's hands. "Teresa, you have to understand, whatever Red John said to you, whatever he did to you, I won't blame you, I trust you, and I need to know that you trust me too."

Lisbon tried to look down, to look anywhere but her eyes, but Jane followed her eyes, making sure she listened to him and saw he meant every word. "Please Teresa, tell me what happened, I promise I won't blame you, please Teresa."

Tears started to fall from Lisbon's eyes, but she managed to hide most of the tremor from her voice. "Jane, I'm gonna ask you one more time, leave. Now."

"No Lisbon I won't leave, and I'm going to ask _you_ one more time. What happened to you?"

Lisbon's tears turned into sobs, and she couldn't hold any more tears back. "I'm sorry Patrick, I'm so, so sorry." She stepped forward and hugged him tightly, Jane suddenly uncomfortable about how much this sounded like a goodbye. "I love you Patrick". She kissed his cheek and stepped around him and led him into the living room.

Jane was still in shock by the way Lisbon had said those words. _"I love you". _She had said it like it was a fact, only stumbling across his first name because of its unfamiliar feel in her mouth. He felt a rising panic, feeling much the same as he had on Monday when Teresa hadn't shown up. He started to feel like the whole situation was wrong and that he should leave, he was about to voice this thought when he saw Lisbon turned around.

"Teresa..."

But Teresa was already lifting off her shirt to reveal her bare back underneath. The first thing Jane saw were the trails of Lisbon's fingernails, deep and scabbed over. Then as the shirt revealed more and more, Jane froze completely. Both his mind and his heart seemed to stop.

It was worse than he could have imagined. Tattooed across her back was a red, dripping smiley face. But it didn't stop there. If he looked closely he saw that among the red ink there were thick, deep cuts. They had been made by a blade, but unlike the departed victims that Red John had usually butchered, these marks were not precise or planned. They were ragged and unevenly spread and many of them looked to be infected, Red John hadn't bothered with a clean blade.

Lisbon's shoulder's shook until she couldn't take it anymore. She sunk to the ground and put her shirt back on. "I'm so sorry Jane, I'm so sorry." Her voice sounded thin and stretched in the small room. Jane said nothing, and the only reason Lisbon knew she was alone was the sound of the front door slamming.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **Thank you for all your support and I'm sorry this chapter took so long to publish. I hope this lives up to your expectations after the last chapter. A special thank you to all of those who sent me reviews, especially Marcia Santos. Please enjoy :)

**An hour Earlier...**

The team were in the bullpen waiting for something to break the radio silence between them and their boss. They had no case and the paperwork was almost up to date. They had started tossing a small ball around the room when the passersby were looking in the other direction, just to break up the monotony of their day. They soon gave up on their game and slipped into a seemingly unbreakable tension.

"Has Boss called?" Cho asked Van Pelt.

"Not since yesterday, and Jane hasn't called either, last time I saw him he was heading over to her place to try and see what was wrong."

Rigsby snorted "What's the bet he did this, whatever it is?" He asked.

"I'm not joking around Rigsby, something is wrong. Really wrong" Van pelt said looking at him accusingly.

"She's right" Cho said and placed the phone he was holding into its place. "I just called Lisbon's mobile. It went straight to voicemail. She keeps her phone charged and on her at all times, it's part of her job. Something's wrong" Cho's deadpan face was showing more worry with everything he said although it was imperceptible for anyone who didn't know him. Fortunately his team knew him quite well.

"Woah woah woah, come on guys. Don't you think you're overreacting? It's only been two days. She could be sick and Jane could be looking after her or something." Rigsby however was staring to look a little pale.

"Guys, I think we should go to her house. I think it could be Red John" Van Pelt's eyes were wide with fear as she looked between the two of them trying to gauge their reactions. Rigsby started to shake his head and opened his mouth to try and calm Van Pelt when Cho interrupted him.

"It would explain why Jane hasn't come back, or told us what happened." Rigsby's voice rose and the argument between the three of them became heated and they started yelling. The argument was fuelled by their accumulated worry and boredom. Their voices started to rise again, to the point where other people on their floor were coming around to see what all the fuss was about when a loud ringing noise interrupted their thoughts.

All three of them stopped what they were doing and faces dark, started to put all their confidential paperwork in their desks and locked them, grabbed their absolute necessities and walked towards the elevator. They veered to the side and entered the stairwell, where the fire alarm sounded more shrill and obnoxious.

They walked at a brisk pace through the lobby and out into the open air. This was the second time the fire alarm had gone off in the past week. Last Wednesday it had gone off for no reason, it wasn't a drill as the fire trucks had shown up and Bertram had known nothing about it, but there had been no fire and no apparent cause for all of them to have spontaneously started ringing.

Cho thought about the likelihood of Lisbon being unreachable and the broken fire alarm in the CBI offices happening at the same time. He turned back to the team and saw they were arguing again about Lisbon. He decided to leave them to their squabbling and let himself drift back into his thoughts.

His mind didn't sharpen again until they were allowed back inside the building. This time they used the elevator. They reached their floor and walked toward the bullpen, but stopped dead in their tracks when they saw Lisbon's office. In a situation like this when Lisbon was away Cho was in charge.

"We'll take two cars, Rigsby on your own, Van pelt with me. Take a photo of this and start trying to pin point Lisbon's cell. Try and contact Jane, he needs to see this." Cho spoke quickly, but without the overriding panic that threatened to swell inside of him. He took a deep breath and answered their questions.

"We go to Lisbon's house. We bring the bulletproof jackets. This is Red John. We need to be as careful as possible."

They already had the basics and so moved quickly to their cars. Cho drove quickly with the sirens blaring, still not quite recovered from the alarm only half an hour earlier. He listened to Van Pelt curse and mutter to herself as she failed to get Jane on the phone.

"His phone must be off, it keeps going to voicemail."

"Have you tracked Lisbon's cell yet?"

"It's off too."

Cho cursed. He pulled the car up outside the apartment block and all three got out of their car's.

"Any developments?" Rigsby asked while getting their vests out of his boot.

"Both of their cells are off". Cho strapped his vest on and walked up to the entrance of the apartment building. The three of them went up the elevator and emerged on Lisbon's floor, to see Jane storming towards them. Cho nodded at the other two to continue and blocked Jane's way in the narrow hallway.

"What happened here Jane?" Cho stepped to bock Jane from passing him a couple of times before Jane made a growling noise, that emanated from somewhere deep in his throat.

"Get out of my way Cho" Jane stepped menacingly towards the man and Cho tried to calm him down. This couldn't be good. It took a lot for Jane to lose his head, under almost any circumstance short of Lisbon's death; Cho thought Jane would be cool and calm, at least long enough to track down Red John and Lisbon. He placed a hand on Jane's shoulder and Jane shrugged it off with an almost violent force. This could not be good.

At that point he heard Van Pelt let out a strangled cry from just outside of Lisbon's apartment. He roughly grabbed Jane's arm and forced him over to the door. Jane tried to shrug him off again and get away, so Cho calmly placed a pair of handcuffs over his wrists and shoved him through the open doorway.

Cho looked up and saw why Van Pelt had cried out. Rigsby returned from a search of the house and put his gun away, seeing there was no immediate threat. Like Jane was an object that was forming a barrier between Cho and Lisbon, Cho handed the arm he was holding to Rigsby and signalled for him to take Jane outside. He heard the door close behind his two teammates.

Cho was slow in his movements. He took a few steps forward and crouched down. He had never seen Lisbon like this and a cold feeling grabbed his gut. They had a bond of partners that was unique to them. She might have been his superior, but they had been working together longer than anyone else on the team. They had mutual respect and admiration for each other, as well as trust that was deeper than what he had ever had for anyone else, and he knew she felt the same. At this point they were family.

Lisbon was incredibly strong. He had known more than any other person, even her brothers, what she had endured throughout her childhood, and was probably the only person in the world who could read her better than even Jane, but even he had never seen her like this.

Lisbon was a mass of clothing huddled on the living room floor, quivering, but nit crying. She was clutching the carpet for support, even though there was no chance of her falling any distance. Her fingernail were caked in blood and her eyes were red rimmed, and the bags beneath them incredibly heavy. He had to listen closely to hear her breaths which were surprisingly shallow and shuddering.

Cho inched himself closer to his superior, not wanting to disturb her or distress her anymore than she already was. She was in a fragile state of mind and Cho didn't want to be the one to shatter it completely. He could remember the last time she had cried, the only time she had cried in front of him. He knew that in this moment he had to be more than her employee, he had to be her brother.

"Teresa?" He whispered. The words echoed in the silence of the room, almost deafening.

"Kimball" She whispered back and threw her arms around him, using him as a support beam and crying against his shoulders. He avoided toughing her back as he picked her up and carried her to the couch. He placed her down and felt her grip tighten as he tried to leave.

"I need to talk to Van Pelt and Rigsby." Cho said. The regret that tainted his voice was clear, but Lisbon couldn't let go of him.

"Please don't go." Her voice was watery and scared and it reminded Cho of a little girl, crying, asking her mother when her dad would be coming back on a particularly gut wrenching case. He made his voice light and comforting.

"They'll have to come in here then. Is that okay?" He received no verbal response, just a shaky nod. This situation was worse than he had thought. He needed to give Lisbon back a sense of control, but the wounds on the photograph he saw would be a permanent, painful reminder of the serial killer who had gotten the best of her. He called oput for the team to come in, and so they did.

Van Pelt was looking scared, her eyes puffed and cheeks swollen. Rigsby was trying to look unconcerned by holding his teammate and friend in handcuffs while watching the two strongest women he knew cry. He was failing miserably. Jane was just looking angry and shameful, unable to meet anyone's eyes, trying not to look around the apartment. He did however notice how comfortable Cho seemed holding Lisbon. Cho thought he saw something flicker behind the mentalist's eyes, but dismissed it quickly, knowing Jane's feelings were not of the most importance right then.

"Have you ever seen her like this before?" asked Rigsby, in the same tone of voice he used to give grieving families his condolences.

"Yes, once. It was bad."Cho spoke plainly and watched the others slowly close the distance between them.

"How bad?" Rigsby looked at him, longing for answers, but only gained more questions.

"I can't say." He turned to the woman, still shaking in his arms. "I need to look at your back, to see if it needs medical attention." He didn't wait for her permission, rather untangled himself enough to be able to lift up the back of her shirt and see the dried blood and the horrific smiley face. Van Pelt made another strangled sound and turned to Rigsby for comfort, who let go of Patrick Jane's arm.

Cho looked up sharply at him. "She needs the hospital. Grace, Wayne, do you think you can take her?"

"I think we'll need an ambulance. Boss is in shock" Rigsby replied. Cho nodded and Rigsby stepped into the kitchen to make the call. He came back a few minutes later. "They're on their way."

The five of them waited wordlessly until the ambulance came. The only noise disrupting the silence was Lisbon's quiet sobs.


End file.
